


Decided

by yeaka



Series: Yutopian Zoo [28]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: After the rut, things settle back into place.





	Decided

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in the same partial-animal AU as some of my other ficlets, but it’s stand-alone and you don’t need to read them for this. (Human!Victor bought serow!Yuuri from the zoo; Yuuri’s just gone through rut.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

His emails have really piled up, but at least they’re easy to curl up with on the couch, phone in one hand and hot cocoa in the other. Victor takes a languid sip before setting the mug down on the coffee table and reclining back into the cushions. After such a long, trying season spent in Yuuri’s sweat-slicked arms, Yuuri’s heated, rut-ridden body bearing down on him, it’s nice to have a break and just _relax_. Of course, as ragged as Yuuri ran him, he’d do it all again. And he will, next year, if Yuuri will still have him then. He has several texts from Phichit asking how Yuuri’s doing, which Victor answers pleasantly and vaguely.

He’s on a lengthy rant from Yakov when Yuuri wanders over to him, a little damp and wet from a quick romp in the snow outside. He wears only Victor’s sweater, beige and too big for him, draping off one shoulder and covering the tops of his flushed thighs. It’s always a wonder to Victor that Yuuri’s pale skin, so very _human_ , can stand so much exposure to the cold. Or maybe Victor’s just over-protective—he knows Russians aren’t the only people born hardy and tough.

Yuuri meanders around the couch, and though there’s plenty of room to sit on it, he falls instead to the floor at Victor’s feet. He curls his slender legs beneath him on the soft carpet, his body arching over Victor’s knees. He folds his arms over Victor’s lap, looking up at Victor through the thick lenses of the glasses Victor bought him what seems so long ago. Chocolate eyes big and beautiful, he asks, “How are you doing, Victor?”

“Tired,” Victor admits, “but well.” Yuuri dons a little smile. Victor can’t resist dropping a hand into his dark hair and brushing back through it—Yuuri practically purrs. Yuuri leans into Victor’s touch and nuzzles his cheek against Victor’s palm, still eager for Victor’s hands on him, even after the over-exposure of a wild rut. That’s a good sign to Victor. He did wonder if, perhaps, some of the affection would die down once the rut was over. But Yuuri’s still _Yuuri_ , gravitating towards Victor and always endearing, whether he means to be or not.

He coos at Victor caresses and murmurs quietly, eyes now half-lidded, “You were so good to me during my rut... you were such a good mate...” Victor’s heart constricts, pleased and proud beyond words. Then Yuuri’s eyes flicker up, and he tentatively asks, “Are we, ah... _mates_?”

Victor’s been waiting for that. He can feel himself smiling broadly. Consciously, he _knows_ there’s more that they should talk about—so many differences between them—but he’s always had a problem with jumping straight in where his heart’s concerned, and Yuuri’s no exception. Victor confirms, “Yes,” and at the growing pleasure on Yuuri’s face, Victor adds, “the human term is ‘boyfriends.’”

Yuuri’s mouth abruptly drops into a frown. His ears twitch, and he mutters, “But... if we’re just friends...?”

“No,” Victor laughs, “it means more than that. It does mean ‘mates.’ I’m your mate, Yuuri.” That seems all Yuuri needs to hear. He lights up like a star, like a supernova, the way he does when he’s lost himself in skating and shed all hesitation, wholly gorgeous in his confidence. He leans up on his knees, and Victor leans down to brush a kiss across his lips.

It’s only chaste. Victor’s still worn out, and Yuuri seems fine with that, humming happily between them and rubbing their noses together. He asks, “Will you come skating with me?”

“In a bit,” Victor decides, because he wants to— _always_ wants to skate with Yuuri—but his body’s still recovering, and Yakov will probably kill him if he takes any longer to reply. He tells Yuuri instead, “You should go run and play though. And if you come back by dinner, I’ll show you the teas I was talking about this morning—what humans do with water and leaves.”

Yuuri mewls, “Okay,” and nuzzles into Victor a little longer, a little harder, like trying to leave a lasting imprint that will always stay with Victor. Victor doesn’t miss the way a bit of shimmering sap leaks out of Yuuri’s scent glands to mark his shirt and jeans. Though it can be a pain to get out in the wash, he’s grown to love the smell, and there’s something so intimate and sweet about Yuuri marking his territory. Victor gives him another peck on the forehead.

Then Yuuri gets up and goes. Victor slowly answers Yakov’s email, and afterwards, he gets distracted in looking up matching rings.


End file.
